Monthly Archives: April 2016

The best ones get taken first. The ones that are second choice get taken next. Those who are still not taken are considered ‘left overs’ – something must be lacking. No we are not talking about the kurtas on sale at a pret store, nor the shoes on the rack of an international shoe store. We are talking about women. Talented, smart, intelligent Pakistani women, each uniquely beautiful, irrespective of whether she is poised to be a home maker or a working woman. It is shameful that this is how society perceives them if they are still unmarried.

Being engaged or ‘in a relationship’ buys one a little time before the pressure begins to build up. But this is not just about the pressure on single women in Pakistan to get married. This is more about the blows to their self-esteem when the world seems like a market place (excuse the crass but apt analogy), and if no suitor has expressed a desire to marry you, you are a lesser being – the unwanted woman.

I got married young, so I never faced the unwanted stigma. But even then, one question used to spring up in conversations; shaadi se pehle kitnay rishtay aaye the? (How many proposalsdid you get before you got married?). Your worth, somehow, is associated with how many men wanted to make you their life partner, or how many mothers saw potential in you.

I saw friends who got married later – marrying at 23 or 24 was considered late. I saw their ordeal, and how their selfesteem was shattered every time potential suitors came to see them, but did not call back. It is unfair and leaves scars.

Sadly not much has changed; intelligent, enterprising and highly educated Pakistani women find themselves in a lurch. The late 20s, early 30s women who spent a lot of time in education, once done with their studies, find themselves in a tricky spot, especially if they studied abroad, and now have too much self-worth to allow themselves to be showcased. It is a shock to them that years later, social attitudes in Pakistan are still the same. Many of them go back abroad as the constant judgment that comes with being single is too much to take.

Every action has a reaction. The culture of measuring a woman by the number of proposalsshe receives has ignited a strong reaction within women; one that makes them sick to the idea of marriage. The trend is not a healthy effect, and we may call it a side-effect of women gaining too much independence, but decades of harming women’s self-esteem is the real cause.

A collective sentiment that may not be pronounced as yet, but is slowly and steadily growing among Pakistan’s urban and financially independent women are ‘why marry at all if one has to go through so much scrutiny, humiliation and even rejection?’

Which raises other valid questions like: Why should it be the woman who serves the tea trolley when the potential suitors and their families come to see her? Why should she face the rejection; and on what basis?

Asian cultures across the continent are jarringly similar. A recent advertisement in China aimed at empowering women has gone viral. It talks about how young single Chinese women are literally called the leftovers.

Pakistan may not have a specific word for it, but this is what is implied. And in the rishta (proposal) market, the most valuable currency is, of course, the physical aspect.

A multitude of TV ads perpetuate the same sickening thought process: Be thinner if you want to marry, be fairer if you want to marry, use bleach creams, and have flowing dead straight hair, look and dress a certain way if you want to marry.

If a man in his 30s is unmarried, nobody will blame his paunch, thinning gray hairline or his height, weight or complexion. He will be given the benefit of doubt and excuses will be made FOR him – he was busy studying because he is so brilliant; he was busy building a career because he is so responsible; he was waiting for his sisters to get married because he is so noble.

But for a woman, it seems how her outward appearance is all that she is worth. She must be young enough to bear children and good looking enough to appease the man. Come to urban Pakistan and in addition to this, she should ideally also have a degree from a decent university – a degree which, in all probability, she may not ever use.

Marriage is a very important milestone in a person’s life. It is a promise of a long term partnership and a more well-rounded life, and is something most men and women aim for. It is a commitment that needs adjustment, it’s not a fairy tale, but is worth the trouble. Having said that, no one deserves to be made to feel inferior for not having been chosen by suitors.

Today’s single Pakistani women are not necessarily leftovers – many of them simply don’t want a man who is shallow enough to choose or reject them, only on the basis of how they look. They feel they are better off being without such a man. So spare a woman the pity when you see her happening, single and in her 30s. She doesn’t need it.

The houses look almost uniform in design in the upper tier areas of this city of 23 million. Tall walls veil the view of the facades of these houses that are for Karachi’s high life. A lot of gray is visible with people tilting towards less use of paints.
The design lines are simpler, less complicated in Karachi compared to counterparts in Lahore and Islamabad. Architecture is definitely evolving in residential Karachi. But the design is controlled by the owner and not the architect. And the purpose of building these grand structures is less about building a home and more about what people will think, leaving Karachi’s architects disgruntled.
“Today’s architecture is just glamorous experiments but nothing substantial is being done. There is no serious architectural experiment in Pakistan presently. It is just gimmickry. People may have become savvier about hiring architects to design the house but a freehand is not given to the architect,” says Mukhtar Husain, a senior architect who feels that most people build houses simply to show off. “It is an activity for noveau riche.”
Renowned architect Shahid Abdulla’s views are aligned with Husain’s. “We as a nation are dirty. We don’t know how to live well and we don’t build houses with practicality and maintenance in mind. We build houses as showcases. Sprawling lawns are made to impress people but no one sits in them anymore,” he says, explaining why architects are today preferring courtyards and paved areas, instead of lawns in a parched Karachi that receives very little rain.

Luckily, Karachi’s residences are easier to maintain. “Architecture in Karachi basically consists of reinforced concrete. There is no rain in Karachi which makes the maintenance much easier,” says Habib Fida Ali, one of Pakistan’s most famous architects and the man who designed LUMS.
He discusses architecture with zeal, with Zaha Hadid being mentioned as a great personality and Fida Ali’s friend.
While the world celebrates the great Ms Hadid’s work and pays her tributes, Husain sees Pakistan’s architectural scene as pretty stagnant. “No Pakistani architect gets any international awards. It’s not that Pakistani architects are not capable of better works but there is not enough opportunity to do better work when the owner dictates what we design. The signature work of any architect is no longer recognisable.”
“It’s not that architects are not capable of better works but there is not enough opportunity to do better work when the owner dictates what we design.
For architects like Abdulla, economy and nature play a very important part of the design. “My focus when designing is to make a house economical. When a proper architect is not used, the focus of owners is that the house should not appear a poor man’s house. It’s like giving a child makeup to beautify; overkill of materials makes the house less becoming,” he says.
Houses designed by Abdulla are known to be very different. “We use cement, less of marble but try and use more stone. Nature is very important to me. My houses are easy maintenance. On a stone floor falling leaves still look good. A house should look like a home. It should look lived in and after twenty years it should look prettier when the trees you planted when you built the house are now all grown up. Natural light and plants are never old fashioned,” he says, expressing displeasure over the trend of imported trees. “It’s time to go back to indigenous and fruit trees. I am very conscious of the environment-friendly aspect of design. I like to create small water bodies.”
For the more aware house owners, like Humera Kamran, the element of nature is supremely important, as is practicality.

“I did not want a house that I become a servant to due to maintenance needs. So practicality was very important to me,” she says. She has recently moved into her new home which is a labour of love for her. “Three elements are very important in my house; light, air and plantation. At any given time during the day, I don’t need to switch on a light at any place in my house. I had electricity conservation in my mind and wanted to stay as close to nature as possible. The patio in the centre of the house is our hub. That is where we sit in the evenings surrounded by plants. I have not used any grills in my house. We have used tempered glass.”
Abdulla feels upbeat when asked to compare the architectural scene in Karachi and other urban centres. “Karachi’s architecture is evolving very well. Lahore as a city still cannot appreciate simple architecture. Karachiites are more practical,” he says, mentioning that one positive change is that architects like himself take it upon themselves to use less paint. “Look at the Indus Valley School. I left it in concrete block and twenty four years later it still looks good.”
But Husain does not see any difference in the urban architecture of Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad. “The same trends are being followed everywhere. It’s just that in Karachi, due to security reasons, the walls are very high so the street fronts look very drab because facades of houses are no longer visible though people still spend money on them. Yes, there are more sun roofs but that is not for an environmental concern, but is just another trend,” he says, adding that environmental sustainability is not a concern for clients which is very frustrating for the architect. “My advice to people building a house is that don’t just put in your money but also put in your mind.”

“There is more to life than just a man,” says Sajida*, explaining her decision to file for Khula. A working woman in her 30s, she is one of the thousands of women from Karachi who opt for it every year. “For my mother and women from earlier generations in my family, even thinking of Khula as an option was impossible.”

Where Khula – the right of a woman to seek divorce – is concerned, Pakistani women, today, are on the brink of a major social change. The numbers of women opting for it is growing at an unprecedented rate in Pakistan’s urban centres and data retrieved from family courts confirms this. Within the first 10 days of 2016, 36 applications for Khula were filed in Karachi alone. On December 31, 2015, 12,733 cases of Khula were still pending in family courts of four districts in Karachi – South, East, West and Centre districts. In recent years, Malir seems to have the highest number of registered Khula cases among all localities of Karachi. On December 31, 2015, there were 700 filed cases in Malir. Within 45 days, another 200 were added bringing the average to about five new cases a day in this area alone. “If 10 cases are resolved or disposed, 50 new ones are added. The numbers keep growing,” says Urdu journalist Arshad Baig, who has spent years reporting court stories in Karachi.

The Council of Islamic Ideology’s recent declaration that it is un-Islamic for courts to use Khula without the consent of a husband to dissolve a marriage triggered heated debate on the subject. Yet, with Pakistan’s family law allowing it, women are now more ready to use this right when a marriage gets too much to bear.

According to Pakistan’s family law, in the law of Islamic jurisprudence, Khula remains a woman’s unequivocal right. “The court cannot deny the woman the right of Khula,” says lawyer Summaiya Zaidi, adding that Khula is when the wife applies to the court for dissolution of the marriage contract. While Islam encourages the family unit be kept intact, provisions of Khula and divorce have been given to both genders to be able to free themselves if a marriage fails despite trying on grounds of solid reasons.

In Zaidi’s experience, the most common grounds for women seeking Khula are domestic violence, physical and/or emotional abuse, inability of husband to provide for her financially and lack of love or affection given by the husband. “It can also be just general unhappiness or hatred for the husband. The provision for Khula is found in the premise that Islam concedes the right to a wife to free herself from the contract where life becomes a torture for both.” However, Zaidi explains this is not an absolute right but is controlled by the court. “A successful exercise of this right is dependent on the Judge reaching the conclusion that the spouses cannot live together within the limits of God,” she says. In most cases of Khula, as permitted by Islamic law, the woman agrees to let go of the Meher (dower) that the husband has to give to her and may also agree on further monetary negotiations to work her way out of a marriage.

Mufti Muhammad Zahid affirms it is a right Islam has granted to women. Like many mainstream muftis (Islamic jurists), he believes both spouses must agree on the act of Khula. “One sided Khula initiated by the wife with the husband not agreeing to it, is unreliable,” he says. But he also agrees that the Qazi, which today amounts to the Judge of a family court, can nullify the nikaah on solid grounds.

Fight for rights

Khula is different from Talaq-i-Tafweez, explains Zaidi. The latter is the power to grant a divorce; this right, though, belongs to the husband, yet it can be delegated to another such as his wife or a third person either absolutely or conditionally, limited by time or permanently. “The person to whom the right has been delegated can then pronounce Talaq accordingly. In essence, this means that the wife can divorce herself. Such a Talaq, once exercised, would be effective after expiry of 90 days unless revoked by husband or wife,” says Zaidi. The nikahnama carries this optional clause and with rising awareness an increasing number of women have begun to check the box of Talaq-i-Tafweez in the marital contract.

For women like Sajida, Khula is what she calls a lifesaving decision. While reasons for Khula vary from couple to couple, in Sajida’s experience it was her ex-husband’s lack of responsibility, taking her for granted and considering her useless. “He was very jealous and unkind. I cooked for him and looked after the house and even contributed financially but he never valued anything. If I were not an educated or working woman I would have committed suicide,” she shares with a shudder.

Khula was not the first option for her and she tried to make things work for almost a decade. “I just wanted him to respect me but he never did. He told me many times that I am fat and ugly,” she says. Sajida’s ex-husband, who suffered from bipolar disorder, let go of her very easily. “We didn’t have any kind of physical contact since years, so he felt guilty. I feel it was the main reason he easily let me go,” she says, and shares that she considers herself lucky to be out of a life of confinement.

For some of Sajida’s contemporaries, however, the options are less relenting and women are forced to live in marriages where the reasons for opting for Khula would be more than valid, such as impotency, mental or physical disorders, and abuse or even infidelity.

Time to accept

While Khula is undeniably a right and the acceptance levels may have increased, it is never taken lightly. The first reaction of most people Sajida encountered was that this is the price urban Pakistani women are paying for economic empowerment. ‘Yeh human rights walay aur TV dramay aurton ke dimagh karab kartay hain (human rights activists and television dramas have corrupted our women)’ is a common reaction when the increased rates of Khula are brought up.

Women’s rights activists fiercely defend a woman’s right to be able to liberate herself from a crippling marriage. “But it’s never a good thing that a family gets broken. Unlike what people assume, human rights activists like myself, who support women’s rights, do not encourage women to seek divorce and make it their duty to listen to both sides of the story. We try to reconcile their differences,” says Mahnaz Rahman of the Aurat Foundation.

But sometimes the differences are irreconcilable. Such was the case with Naila* who stayed in an abusive marriage for 26 years but never considered seeking Khula. Instead, her marriage ended with her husband divorcing her on his second wife’s pressure. “I am from the generation when mothers taught their daughters ‘Jis ghar mein shareef aurat ki doli jaati hai, wahan se uska janaza uth ta hai’ (a decent woman’s funeral is in the same home where she goes as a bride). This doli-to-janaza mentality was so firmly driven in a girl’s mind that she chose to suffer in silence,” says Naila. She could not take that leap of faith as she felt staying in the marriage was for her children’s better future. The onus of protecting the children from the effects of a broken home sat squarely on the mothers and women would also brush issues under the rug for this reason, confirms Naila. “But sometimes children are better off when they do not see their mothers tormented,” she adds.

Reasons cited in cases of Khula vary but experts agree that economic empowerment of women is translating into the fact that they are no longer willing to live in a perpetual abuse or neglect. “With economic independence comes a sense of self-worth. A sense of rights and women wonder why they should tolerate unjust behaviour,” says Rahman.

“We are witnessing fairly rapid social change in cities across Pakistan with regards to gender norms and as Pakistan is one of the most rapidly urbanising countries in the world, these changes are significant for the country as a whole,” says Nida Kirmani, who teaches Sociology at Lahore University of Management Science and is a gender activist. In Kirmani’s opinion, migration to cities opens up possibilities for women to move away from the restrictions of extended kinship networks, which sometimes allows them more room to challenge social norms.

More and more girls in urban Pakistan are getting equal opportunities of education. They are topping the grades and getting good jobs. “See Karachi: Two generations of boys in this city have gotten pre-occupied with political activities, their education and careers took a back seat. The girls filled that gap, and excelled, and went ahead,” adds Rahman. But she agrees the levels of tolerance among women have receded. “The overall climate of intolerance in our society is effecting the institution of marriage too,” opines Rahman.

Wind of change

Khula may be a woman’s right but is not always a smooth ride. Based on the cases Zaidi has handled, she advises women to make sure they get all their valuable belongings out of the house before they leave. “Leave first for a safe secure home and then apply for Khula,” she says, explaining how a woman applying for Khula can make the man vindictive and even harmful. “In most cases the potential drama of divorce is unveiled when one reads the grounds for Khula as stated in the Plaint by the woman. Even if a man was willing to grant the Khula, once he reads the allegations against him he may become defensive; it affects his ego,” mentions Zaidi. She believes it works both ways: If a woman were to read such allegations against her, her ego would also be hurt. “It is never nice to read in official documentation that one was an awful spouse,” she adds.

“It was a shocker when I received that brown envelope from the court informing me that my wife had applied for Khula,” says Salman*, a resident of South Karachi, who confesses that the document was the wake-up call which made him amend some of his ways. “Our families got involved because our three children’s lives were at stake and convinced her to give me a second chance,” he shares. It was then he agreed to go for marriage counselling with his wife. “If this had not happened, I know I would have continued beating her. I am not a bad man. I love my family. But I never thought her threats of leaving me could ever be true. I never took her seriously,” he says. Eventually, the couple did not get separated. According to his wife, “No one changes completely but now he knows he can’t cross certain limits.”

While Khula may be a liberating option for women not all women are innocent or fair in how they file the cases. Revenge is a very real factor both in cases of Khula or divorce and both genders indulge in this very basic human emotion.

Zaidi has worked on cases where the man needs defending. She cites the example of a case where the man was not guilty of the reasons specified in the Suit against him, which were cruelty, mental torture and lack of financial security. “If we didn’t defend him he would have to pay her maintenance,” she says.

Undoubtedly, more Pakistani women today feel empowered enough to leave unhappy marriages. “Most people would argue that this is cause for concern,” says Kirmani. “But I think this is a welcome change as many women suffer too long in silence.” But for single mother Aisha*, who opted for Khula and remarried few years later, this trend is neither good nor bad. “If previous generations suffered, with more awareness of women’s rights hopefully future generations will progressively get better. It’s a part of progress, of life moving forward.”